Reforged
by reality deviant
Summary: Leah seems to disappear after what happens to her in the later acts of D3 , and it seems like the end of her. Here i try to bring that character back. I really thing she had much unused potential in the story. This is set post epilogue.
1. Chapter 1

**I found myself inspired by a fic that used Leah called 'Hope Never Dies' on AOOO, rather then discarded her, and made use of her heritage. as well as disappointed by the lack of fics that have her as a major character. i had tried multiple times to write something of my own about her, but the ideas didn't go well into the paper. until recently, that i learned about the final fight and epilogue of the expansion for D3-that finally gave me the inspiration i needed.**

**This is the result. **

* * *

_Bound, suppressed, a prisoner in her own mind forced to watch as foulness took command of her body, and her very soul was burning in the flames of hell, __**like iron in a forge**__. Drowning in all that evil. In all the evil._

But she somehow managed. She endured.

_Pieces of herself that were torn-she recollected, as many as she could, never knowing if anything was missing, or she was searching for more in vein, if any piece not Her was picked up. Anchoring them in her thoughts, centering herself in her identity and memories, to not be swallowed whole, to maintain the self, even when it was later surrounded by many other selves, souls. Losing and finding herself. __**Reaching the melting point.**_

And then the container was shattered, and consumed.

_Souls, so many, essence of mortal, and hell combined, empowering the angelic, mixed by the hand of Death. __**The alloy mixed and refined.**_

When that final container was shattered, she finally had her chance.

_All the bonds were, for a single moment, nonexistent. And she was always vigilant, always waiting and struggling to free herself from her role as a pawn and slave to cruelty and fate._

_She took all of Herself that she could, all the parts that she managed to collect and bind together in that infinitesimal moment, and made a break for freedom. With all of her remaining and collected power, with all of her will behind it. __**The metal recast**__._

Upon regaining consciousness, She was confused, it took some time for what memories she held on to resurface. And a stretch of time that later become defined as many days, until She finally made sense of it all.

_Who? I! She! He! Devoured/absorbed-was sacrificed. Demons-so many names- so many misshapen figures-most are only read about/met in hell. Angels-worshipped/protectors/ enemy? Old Man- caretaker/care/affection/ loneliness/contempt/love/Uncle. Wishing for the old man._

_I AM FREE OF HIM!_

_**Into a new form**__._

As she finally regained her sense. The woman who was once Leah, daughter of Aidan, Hero of Tristram, and later The Dark Wonderer-discovered that while she still retained some of the form and a bit of the power, and yes, even a shard of the evil and malice, of her possession, she was finally, for the first time in a long time, and maybe since her birth, was free of the control of the Demon that practically spawned and later possessed her. What little of his essence remained in her, was separated from him, and remade as part of Her.

For while she was no longer human, her demonic aspect merged, rather than dominated her mundane one-fusing into a hybridization that was really neither, anymore. She now had demonic powers, supported by her new body, and the lore learned at the knees of Decard Cain sometimes supported by small bits of demonic memory and knowledge, too fleeting to know which of the Great Evils it originated from.

_She knew that That Demon, Diablo, now maybe still the Prime Evil-for she knew not if any of the others managed to separate-was free and walked the world once more, or will do so soon, but she was utterly free from him and his influence._

She was free.

_**The steel reforged.**_


	2. Chapter 2

After restructuring her fragments of self and Other, and finally deeming herself sane, _'or as sane as anyone could possibly be in my position',_ the creature who once answered to the name Leah decided that it was time to stop hiding and to venture into the world.

To see what happened to it, to humanity. And learn just how long it was since her entrapment. Try to live on, as Uncle Decard would have surely wanted her to, and see that his life work was completed.

It was with these thoughts, that she picked up her courage, and started her quest in search of civilization, or anything resembling such.

She walked around for hours, until the track took her to a too familiar sight. It looked like a ruined town, its destruction painfully familiar.

As she approached, she heard a call- a male voice, one that reminded her strongly of Rumford. "Help! Somebody help me! I'm still alive here."

The call had her spring into action, and run into the town, until she spotted its origins.

One of the houses had its front collapse, in a way that utterly blocked entry and visibility.

"Is someone there?" she asked, afraid her first human contact after her freedom to be mere wishful thinking. The way her voice sounded, just like before Adria kidnapped her, was a pleasant surprise.

"I'm inside the house! Remove the debris please. I'm trapped here."

Emboldened, she proceeded to do just that, with a newfound strength that she now had, it proved much easier than first suspected to be. Asking the man while helping him regain his freedom.

"What happened here? Did demons attacked?"

"Demons? No! It was Angels! First Demonic attacks to the east, then the news of armies of demons attacking from the north. We thought it just rumors, and now Angels attack here! What mad world do we live in?"

"Angels?" It really shocked her. She actually stopped clearing the debris, and took a moment to try to imagine Tyreal wielding his sword and attacking the town. She could not.

"Well, they were strange ones, not like what you hear in the ancient stories…"

Remembering herself, the girl resumed her task.

"And you survived here?"

"In the attack the front part collapsed, and I hid in the basement, not even moving that first day, and staying there afterwards, listening to suspicious noises and eating what stores were hidden there."

"Why call for help loudly now though? Weren't you afraid they would return?"

"No, they only passed here the one time, and left soon after, I never actually heard any signs of them lingering here, besides, I, err… ran out of food…"

At that point enough was cleared that she uncovered the iron door, and could move it and unblock the exit.

"I'm just about done, get ready, I'm about to open the door." As she spoke those words, she tried to do so, to no avail. Frustrated by the door that had someone trapped on the other side of, _Trapped, drowning, controlled, pain,_ she pushed with all her might… and almost fall on her arse as the door was literally torn from its hinges, and entirely in her hands.

"Light thank y- Demon begone!" the man, who was revealed to be also of build, and even armor similar to Captain Rumford, was about to thank her, but after a good look, drew his sword, gulped, tried to charge at her.

The swing of his sword was blocked by the iron door she still held to with both hands, and he was tripped afterwards by a sweep of her tail and-_'what? My tail? Since when do I even have a tail?' _as she turned to look, she discovered that yes, she now had a tail, long lizardine red one, with spikes pointing upwards adorning its upper side. One that was eerily similar to the one that Diablo had, only smaller, and a bit less developed.

She was interrupted from her shock by the man, obviously a guard, almost cutting her down. _'How dare he! I shall teach him to fear me I will-What am I thinking?' _Distressed by his near lethal attack, and even more by her thoughts, and not wanting to end up acting on them, she ran away, as fast as she could, for many minutes. Not stopping until she reached a river.

As she slowed down, noticing in the back of her mind that she was less fatigued then she should be, she spotted her reflection in the water.

It was a demonic figure. Her head was unchanged, but for two horn that came from the sides of her forehead, going up, and then curving backwards a bit and later downwards.

Spikes grew from her shoulders, like a parody of pauldrons, with dull red scales going to her elbows. Her chest was covered by a ribcage like looking growth that started from beneath her exposed, reddish pink bosom, with her skin regaining its normal color just below the neck. Her legs were also scale covered, and she felt oddly relieved to note that they didn't end hooved, or taloned, but merely scale covered to her toes.

And then there was her tail.


	3. Chapter 3

She was so shocked by her newfound form, despite somehow missing it previously, as if part of her expected it, or just not paying it attention.

Her thoughts wondered back to the man who chased her away, thinking her a demon. After all the work she did to fight against the demonic powers. After Uncle Deckard dedicated his life to it, culminating in restoring the angel's sword with his last breath.

It was then that she remembered the man's words, before he saw her and attacked his rescuer-about angels, of all things, coming to slay mortals. She wondered at the irony of it-of that man hiding in fear from angels that killed through the town, only to released, and have the collapsed entrance to his hideout cleared by a demon.

No, she will not be like Him, she will not be a demon. Even if she was no longer human. The loss of humanity, depressed her farther, and she turned away from her inhuman reflection on water. She wondered if such reaction would become a constant part of her new existence. Will she be seen as a monster and a creature of evil wherever she goes? Will she find no safe haven? No new home? It only darkened her mood even more. '_Just how much of my humanity had remained?'_

When she felt a strange power pulling her somewhere, somewhere, she didn't even try resisting.

She closed her eyes, and upon opening them found herself inside some building, peoples she quickly recognized as cultists-servants of demons-were channeling some sort of ward around her, their leader, recognized by a differently colored cloths, seemed uncertain, and somewhat displeased by her appearance. He clearly didn't expect her.

"Who are you, demon, to disrupt the ritual calling to your betters? Reveal your purpose and submit yourself to my **will**!" as the last word was spoken, she felt a foreign force trying to enter her mind, to control her and bind her to its will.

To one that carried Terror inside her for all her life, and who was already possessed once and later freed from the Lord of Terror, in his amalgamation of a fusion with the other great evils-in his strongest and as probably the strongest of demons, submission was unthinkable, and the attempt pathetically weak. The furious rage and Hatred that she felt raising from deep within her broke his attempt easily, and left him panting for breath.

She then stepped outside the circle full of arcane symbols, passing through the wards with no apparent difficulty- a feat that had someone in the background gasping, and grabbed the presumptuous mortal by his throat, savoring the Terror he felt at her casual dismissal of him and his attempts to bind her, and the obvious threat to his life.

He changed his tune quickly after that.

"I, uh, great you, oh great demoness, in the name of my brethren. How might this gathering serve you and our masters?" his face was now pale, nearly white, and she somehow knew it to be due to fear more than exhaustion from his failed summoning and binding attempt or his diminishing air supply. Sweat seemed to collect on his brow, as he looked at her like a slave hoping to not have displeased his masters. Noticing her dark satisfaction at his fear, she quickly dropped him, as if she found herself holding a snake, where he collected himself, and rose, bowing deeply. His 'brethren' kneeling in supplication.

_'At least here, of all places, I am accepted; these people won't be chasing me down screaming abomination. And to think, I had wanted to open an inn, once-just another dream destroyed by the forces of hell, who would want to rent a room in the "Lonely Demon Inn-with a special attraction, an actual demon" anyway?'_

It was then that she recognized that she noticed the fresh blood and the corpse of a young woman to the left, clearly a sacrifice in the ritual. _'That girl, she looks so similar to me, same shade of hair and age.' _

No thoughts followed it, as at that point she found herself moving, and soon the lead cultist was dead, impaled on her now changed, much more demonic looking right hand, which seemed to have been covered by the red scales completely, and had sharp claws on it.

She pulled her now bloody, misshapen arm from the chest of that man, strangely unconcerned about him, and turned her gaze to the other cultists.

One of them gulped, and spoke. "We dedicate ourselves exclusively to your service, Mistress."

Leah knew it was petulant, but she really wanted to be a normal, regular innkeeper somewhere far away at that moment. _'Home, right…' _some sarcastic and pleasantly human part of her mind seemed to say.


	4. Chapter 4

Leah ordered to be shown the quarters of the now deceased cult leader. _'A comfortable looking bad, study with some books, pretty cozy for a deranged psychopathic lunatic.' _And ordered the man, the one who proclaimed this group dedicated to serve her, to take the role of leadership for now, while the others were to proceed with their activities, and not bother her unless there is something urgent.

_'That designation of a leader among them in my name is likely to have disrupted whatever succession plan they had, and gave some a reason to oppose some of the others, as benefiting or suffering from my attention, as well as a leadership figure-and thus somewhat return to whatever passed for normalcy among them-little less chances for them to decide to rebel against me-How do I know it?'_

Leah knew that this group was likely filled with murderers and madmen, whom the old her would have shunned, but she was changed now, somehow made demonic, and she wanted to understand it, herself and her power-the one that she had for as long as she could remember, just what was it, and how to harness it, beyond whatever her mother thought would be useful to teach her-Leah knew now, beyond doubt, that it was of demonic nature, but not enough about it. So that she would know better than fall into another trap, believe in another lie, so that she will control and master her now demonic side, rather than have It control and master her. So she could make sure to never end up bound against her will, never become powerless or serving the demon that destroyed her ever again!

And for that she needed knowledge, understanding of the demonic and its lore-of the kind that only those tainted would have.

That she had no place of her own, no home or family, and was alone and lost, starved for company, to be around people-so as to not feel as alone-and only these 'people' would accept and provide her companionship-that was the main factor though.

And so she closed the door, and labored until she could find how to sit at the study table with her tail and all, trying to come to terms with her newfound situation, to collect herself and rest a bit, before tackling the books again, just like in the Old Times.

That thought brought sadness to her. And thoughts better left alone.

Cxcxcxcxcxcx

_Rivers of lava flew from beneath her, between them small islands of charred earth under blood red sky; men in tattered clothing were bound to poles, screaming in anguish and terror, tormented by demons. And She found herself compelled to come closer, as she did, one of the demons turned to her, and seemed to bow, as it spoke. "My Lord…"_

Leah woke fast after THAT.

She found herself still on the chair, apparently having fallen asleep.

Weary of falling asleep again, and finding herself strangely refreshed, she decided to examine what unholy writings the cultists had there, hoping to learn something, anything, useful.

_'The black ceremony, huh, well, it's as good start as any…'_

A few hours later she found herself unsure if she should be disgusted or impressed. There was knowledge in these tomes, one that added to the horadric texts she studies with Uncle Deckard and complimented them. But it was of disturbing and gruesome nature, and full of unholy suggestions.

She had yet to see direct practical applications to her situation though. _'And that's just the part I need now'_, she gazed at her still monstrous right hand.

A knock on the door, and a fearful voice. "M-mistress? I w-was called to a-ask you to attend the vessel possession ceremony, if it pleases you.

She stood so fast that the backrest of the chair was nearly broken by her tail, and it took her a few moments to pull it off when it stuck on one of her tail spikes.

As she did, she got to the door, and in as commanding and condescending a tone as she could muster, replied to the cowering demon cultist.

"Lead me there at once!"

He did, and she followed.

She entered the main chamber of the manor, the one where she was summoned before. And it was so strange a thought, that she was now a demon enough to be summoned in such ways.

The cultists stood in a circle, while the one whom she nominated leader was standing before a submitting cultist with haunted eyes, a spike in one hand and a hammer in the other.

She saw as it was hammered into the man's spine, then another, and a third.

Yet there weren't any signs of agony and pain that she expected, nor blood.

She felt the corruption in him increase though, and the attracted demonic spirit.

One that has inhibited him, but was yet to take control.

After the macabre ritual ended, she approached the alter, tail moving from side to side, and commanded the leader.

"Have the vessel brought to my rooms in tent minutes. And refrain from repeating the ritual for now. You!" she addressed the one who guided her here, "come with me."

She was uncertain, but the passive possession of those vessels intrigued the scholar in her, it could be a hint about her power, and even her humanity, of what she had left.

As soon as they would reenter her study, formerly belonging to the dead summoner who dared to try to control her, she would question the one who followed in her steps about that phenomenon.


	5. Chapter 5

The Cultist was very helpful in his explanation, eager to be of service. Leah feared her questions will reveal that she wasn't a true demon, and ignorant of their ways. She intimidated him into keeping silent about her questions, should others ask, when the 'vessel' knocked on her door and asked for entry, in a passive, tranquil and emotionless tone.

The cultist was apparently glad to leave her presence, as he all but ran when she dismissed him.

The Vessel was emotionless throughout their conversation, as she asked him about how he calls the demon to take an active role, if they could communicate, the physical transformation undergone when the demon takes command, the degree of awareness, and even control of the human…

At the end of her questioning, she thought that it was helpful, but not enough, and as a glance at her own form brought an idea, she steeled her nerves, _'he gave his body to a demon willingly he is damned already, he gave himself willingly-he is damned already...'_ She ordered him to demonstrate his demonic transformation.

The result was a misshapen form, with some of the man's features in it.

After a brief minute during which she examined the transformed creature before her, and it observed her, it spoke in a low masculine voice.

"How may I serve, my lor-You are NOT the Lord of Terror! Who are you, preten-!

The demon never finished his cry of outrage, as he was interrupted by a panicked Leah shoving her clawed, lightning covered hand into its chest.

As she tore her hand out of it, and the charred, smoking corpse fell; she looked at her right hand, previously misshapen into a red scaled, clawed muscular limb, now also surrounded by a weird feeling and red lightning that seemed to fizzle out.

She took a few calming breaths and wiped her hand of blood on the dead man's pants, just as someone at the door begged entry.

"Enter." Leah tried to say as condescendingly as she could, hoping to maintain her image as a dangerous demoness they must not disobey.

"Mistress? What happened here? We heard shout-ing", while the first part was with some worry, the last word was ended in a different, slow and stunned tone, as he just saw the dead vessel on the ground, this time the hole in its chest not only bleeding, but also charred.

"This one dared to argue with me. He thought he knew best." Leah tried to make the last sentence mocking and insulting, and thought she managed so quite well.

The cultist was about to say something, maybe comment on the docility of Vessels, but glanced at the one before him, and thought better of it.

"As you command. Anything else, Mistress?"

"Yes, I need to leave the building, soon, while hiding my presence from the general population. How feasible is that?"

Surprise flashed before him, before he answered.

"As this used to be the hunting manor of a noble who thought to make use of us to kill his rivals, and have us killed, but discovered too late our wrath, the surrounding grounds are relatively unvisited of people except us and the occasional villager at daytime, you are unlikely to be seen at night by those not part of our order.

She dismissed him, and as the men dragged the dead and closed the door behind them, tried to use what she concluded from her chat with the cultist and vessel, as well as her observations and ideas from having read the books, especially the 'Treatise on Demonology'.

After trying different things for hours, she closed her eyes, and tried imagining the change of that possessed man, and then it's reverse. As she did so, a strange feeling coated her right arm again.

Excited by the possibility of progress, she tried to memorize the feeling as she focused on it.

When she opened her eyes, her hand was once again humanlike below the elbow.

* * *

Leah didn't feel exhausted, and avoided sleeping –as she was weary of nightmares where demons talked to her. While she spent the entire night and the next day she had learned how to switch her right hand between its humanlike and demonic forms, attempts to affect any other parts of her body seemed not to work into the human direction, and she simply refused to experiment with trying to assume a more demonic for on any other part of her body.

Attempts to call back that red lightning seemed to require intense emotion on her behalf, and even than all she managed is a small fizzle.

Her left hand proved the same as the right one, minus the red lightning thing-it had no reaction at all to attempts of manifesting it.

With some progress on the issue of her form being a confirmation of that she just might regain her human one, someday, and lack of anything more useful in the dark books in the study she occupied, after finishing some of them, and skimming through many of the others, having spent the better part of the day on that, she decided it was time to see about the less physical aspects of her form-many demons could use lightning, fire or some magics, and some could even call undead or vile beasts and lesser demonic creatures to their command.

_'I will not be as powerless as I was when Mother betrayed us all. Even if I must call on these parts of my new heritage, I WILL NEVER BE BOUND HELPLESS AGAIN, I will NEVER return to THAT HELL.' _

She remembered reading about the Coven Cultist that took control of the Goatmen, and intended to use them for a conquering army that would allow him to dominate the world, shortly before leaving Tristram. Leah wondered if there were any nearby, and smiled in a way that would have worried any cultist were they to see her at that moment, as she remembered their viciousness. That was a target she would have no guilt over whatsoever.


	6. Chapter 6

**I am sorry for the delay, but i am now a bit more busy and may not update rapidly as before. This fic is far from ending, so don't worry.**

**It should be obvious that I don't own Diablo 3, and gain no money from publishing this. **

**also a bit of warning, the second half of the chapter contains somewhat gruesome scene, i am sorry but it is needed for the plot, i tried to keep it from M rated details, and hope to have succeeded.**

* * *

The current dwellers of the Mansion seemed nervous, but none denied her leave that night.

When she finally got outside the manor, the familiar woods she found herself in brought memory of better times…the times when she used to travel with her uncle.

Leah walked into the depths of the woods, to both shake any Cultists who might be spying on her and go away from their gaze into privacy, and because she was finding her gradual acceptance of their company, and even their submission and false modesty, which would probably only last till they figure she is not a powerful demon lord, and try to oppose her- by either banishing or enslaving her, or summoning another demon, that will do it for them, or worse-alert Him to her presence…

She felt somewhat strange without her bow, but such a weapon would be out of place for a demon, especially one such as her. So it was decided to go without one, for now.

As she went deeper, and tried to sense her surroundings, she eventually stumbled on her first Goatman. He appeared to be eating something she didn't recognize, nor wanted to.

Gladdened at the chance-she surveyed her surroundings again. Satisfied at finding no human presence nearby, Leah tried casting her will forward, at the Khazra.

It seemed to only agitate the creature. As he turned his attention to her, he seemed uncertain, as he saw her horns, but as she pushed her frustration into her attempt, he picked up a weapon, and charged at her.

Remembering a metal door, torn from its hinges, she transformed her hand into the scaled, demonic form and tried to capture his axe mid-swing. Unfortunately she was inexperienced in that kind of things, and failed to grab the weapon.

She discovered that the demonic scales were quite sturdy, as the axe, swung with the considerable strength of arm of a Goatman, failed to pass through them, and only left a faint mark on some of them. Both she and the Goatman were surprised, but Leah recovered faster and did her best attempt at making the clawed arm into a fist and with all her power punched him in the snout-where a nose would be.

Apparently her strength, at least of the transformed arm, was something greater than she first thought, as blood poured from the Goat face, and with a surprised 'Baah' the creature fell. Second check confirmed that he will never rise again.

A few hits on nearby log confirmed inhuman strength. _'A punch like that would kill a man, what other physical influence did my body undergo that are yet undiscovered?' _ Still, Leah felt it was too close, and decided that next time, she will try to defend herself from a distance-it seemed common among demons to have some magic ability…

So when she spied the next Goatman, she tried to use what she learned from the dark grimoires the cultists had, and …nothing happened.

Once again she found herself forced to use her arm to kill the creature in melee distance, rather than dispatching him from afar.

Leah did not get to far in her attempts to control the Khazra either, though she found herself capable of agitating them, and one such agitated Goatman ended up attacking the closest thing to him, being another Goatman.

She also learned that she could charge targets with a burst of speed akin to a horse cavalry at least.

Having entered a bit deeper and past a cawing raven flaying away, she found a surprising concentration of Goatmen near a caravan, and this time tried to discourage them from attacking her.

As she drew closer, they appeared spooked, and ran away to different directions.

The Caravan was empty, and looked still partly untouched, with goods on it, but there weren't any people nearby.

Pleased to have SOME progress with her experiments with the power she now had, and deciding that she walked deep enough already, Leah tried to return to the mansion.

* * *

Back in her, now familiar room among the cultists, Leah set to rest a bit, and indulged in the fruits the previous owner kept hidden in a magical box that was nearly freezing cold inside.

While it kept the edge of hunger away, she still felt like something was missing, something without which this could never be more then light dessert or appetizer, something…more.

It was as she sat there, half eaten apple in hand, trying to relax and replenish her will and strength, before the next step in her new existence, like a brief pause in a long, arduous, tiring journey, that someone knocked on her door.

A fearful voice called. "M-mistress? I w-was called to a-ask you to attend t-the sacrifices in your h-honor, if it pleases you."

Leah was taken aback by the declaration, and the knowledge turned the fruit in her mouth bitter.

She returned the half eaten apple into the box; closed and hidden it under the bad, as she rose to see what that was about for herself.

* * *

As she approached the Main Hall, there was chanting, and at her entrance, the Cultists sang to their knees, all beside the leader, and he gave a speech about their sacrifice to appease her.

Leah saw at the center some people, their hands tied and mouths gagged, runes inscribed in what she suspected to be fresh blood. A bloodied corpse lain in a corner.

Soon the chanting increased, getting faster and louder, as the leader approached the man, and stabbed him in the stomach with a ritual blade.

As the victim screamed in pain, the head priest of that unreal looking unholy priesthood dedicated to her dipped his finger in the freely flowing blood, and tore the man's shirt open, inscribing symbols on his chest, as the victim screamed through his gag, before stabbing him again, in other part of the body, and a third stab into his heart.

For some reason Leah felt that dull sense of hunger the fruits failed to quench slowly disappear, as though being satisfied. As though she was nourishing from the act.

She was too surprised by it to do anything as another man was given similar fate, and this time, actually felt his Terror, and how it left a sweet taste in her mouth, better than any fruit she had ever tasted. Better than anything she had ever tasted. That alarmed her.

Next was a woman, a mature blonde with western features.

She too, was cut, only this time it the tip of the sacrificial dagger followed the bloody smear of runes on her exposed chest, and followed by multiple cuts and stabs, more than the men received. In a gruesome fashion that would have left Leah too disturbed to do anything but stand, shocked, had she witnessed it before her mot-, NO, Adria's betrayal.

The experiences after didn't prepare her all that much either, though.

She focused on the woman, both her attention, and what demonic senses she had now, and felt the fear of the dying woman, who seemed to lock eyes with her at that moment, and the fear Leah found herself feasting on intensified, just as the woman received the death strike.

At that moment Leah felt sated and refreshed, empowered more than she remembered feeling ever since finding herself summoned into the Mansion.

It felt indescribable, so great and satisfying that she felt a primal urge to voice her pleasure, and found herself doing just that, roaring in an animalistic way, producing sounds no human ever could, and some voice in her head seemed to add 'as if she devoured the woman's soul', though Leah was very uncertain of it. She was not certain of anything at that moment.

And then the leader of the cultists, the on orchestrating the ritual, with a look of pleased glee on his face, announced that this one will be special and approached the last target with an obvious intent to do even worse- a boy, of about fourteen years, gagged and bound as well, who looked at her roaring, horned form with delicious panic and horror filling his eyes.


	7. Chapter 7

_She wanted to feast on his sweet Terror, to nourish herself on his soul as he would be consumed by the Hells, to have him howling in pain, tortured and anguished, while she defiled him down to his very essence and- what was this whispering voice? 'Uncle?'_

The Demonic terror that was Leah felt the intoxicating feeling of the unholy darkness and fear pleasantly warming her inside, yet at her core, she felt cold.

For a moment there, she lost herself and became just like Him, repeating the cycle of Corruption and suffering, and death.

She gazed again into the eyes of the sacrificed boy, and saw her fleeting humanity, both now and as Adria did the same to her, as He possessed her.

The gleeful malice-obvious in the faces around her, even those who she felt somewhat sympathetic before, even a little, turned them into ugly monsters.

They were just like Mahgda, just like Adria! And were about to make her the same!

The Demon that was Leah felt her fury rise, mostly human now, and yelled.

"Stop!"

The cultist leader stopped, blade near the boy's nether region, as all around motion and chant stopped and silence reigned.

Leah felt all her frustration with her new self, the angry attack of the man she dug out before her summoning, her current company, and her WRATH grew, and grew, and in what she felt to be minutes, but was merely moments in reality, burst forth!

Beneath the cultist leader, in a form of a column of hellfire, that burned him to the very bones, until a burning skeleton remained, still holding the ritual blade.

Flames appeared at her feet, and snaked, like serpent in the desert, towards the cultists to her right, in what she soon realized was an unconscious guidance from her, burning them to death as a normal fire, this time.

Looked at it in fascination, not really believing that it was her action that called for that Firestorm.

An enraged shout was heard, as a demon vessel transformed and charged at her, and she tried to repeat the instinctive firecalling, successfully unleashing a firestorm at him as well, though this time, her target survived, and got close to her, flames still burning his misshapen form.

She charged to her left, claws impaling one and soon tearing another, on both hands.

As she slashed across the throat of another cultist with her claws, and he fell to his knees, bleeding, and another that tried to strike her from behind got a spiked tail to the face, the force making him fall, and the puncture by now bloody spike making him die. She sent another firestorm to her right, and then another, as she heard fighting nearby.

As she unleashed more of her WRATH, another pillar of hellfire burst under a cultist, burning him fast to smoldering red skeleton, which then proceeded to send what she thought to be Firebolts at others from hands that glowed orange.

a look at her back confirmed that the former leader was now a skeleton too, stabbing cultists and demons they called to fight for them with the very same blade he performed the ritual, and another corpse walked and punched them, on closer inspection appearing the man, previously sacrificed to her.

Leah kept sending firestorms, which she thought she got the hang of now, and tearing her former comrades between her claws, the retaliatory strikes feeling like minor irritations on her scaled body, even when actual knifes and staves were used.

Soon the cultists were killed, and the room only had her and the worryingly increased number of undead, now walking around aimlessly, and the utterly terrified boy that she… rescued?

The way he cringed and tried to slither away in panic as she approached him felt as if someone punched her in the gut, in her normal-was it even still normal for her? Human form. She stopped cold.

The towering pillars of hellfire flame seemed to go out, as their fires got back down, and into the ground, from which they erupted. The skeletons fell into heaps of bones where they stood, as did the walking corpse.

Leah heard only the panic of the boy amid the background of burning mansion, and some fighting in the distance.

She knelt before the now cornered boy, tali wagging for side to side, and in as nice a voice as she could asked.

"Will you be quiet if I release your gag and bonds? DON'T LIE!"

The gagged boy furiously nodded yes

The girl took the gag off him with her now human hands, and commanded.

"If you want to live, you will come with me."

The boy looked around them, to the burning room, and the destruction, the corpses the monsters that captured and killed the others, and the biggest monster of them all, the one that saved him from one horrible fate, only to have him follow her to another.

If he were older, more wise and knowing of life in general, and demons in particular, he would have refused. If he had any courage left, he would have refused even in his age, after seeing Her wrath. If his father were around, he would have told that death is better than serving such a monster.

But the kid was you, he was numb and hollow, too tired to be brave, righteous, or even caring, and just avoided what looked like a very painful death. He was alone, no parents or anyone else remaining. He felt beyond caring, and really didn't want to argue with the demon before him.

Again he nodded.

As Leah finished untying him, and held her arm human, inviting arm to him, he grabbed it, and with leaning on it, stood up.

As the left the room slowly, walked to the main doors, and beyond them, the sounds of fighting intensified, until they saw the reason the manor seemed empty, outside the ritual chamber- all the guards seemed to have rushed outside, where they were under attack and soon overrun by dozens of Goatmen, none even noticing the Demon and the Boy walking away, as flames were consuming the Mansion that was the cult's base.

"What is your name?"

"T-Timeon."

"I'm Leah."


	8. Chapter 8

_And so, the boy and the demon, who had saved him from the gruesome death for unknown purpose, and uncertain fate, after all but bathing in the blood of his dear companions, tracked in the dark woods in the late darkness of the night. The boy might've thought of escape now, but after what seemed like walking in circles, with only the strange demon seeing anything farther than the tip of his nose in that darkness, he reconsidered, remembering IT's wrath against its followers before, and not wanting to draw it's ire._

They walked for some time, and only after the fifth stumble behind her, did Leah realize that her new companion might not be as fine as she first thought.

"Is something wrong, Timeon?" she asked him as gently as she could.

"Nn-nothing's wrong!" he tried to assure her, and if it were under less dire situation, she would have laughed at his hurrying reassurance, and the way he addressed the air before him, rather than her direction. _'I'm a fool! He can't see anything, can he? My sight must have been affected, and I didn't see anything strange about it at all-when will my very body stop betraying me with all these surprises?! And his stuttering isn't just from his near slaughter by the cultist either, is it?'_

Somewhat discouraged by her revelation, she nonetheless grabbed the lad's hand, and spoke to him, the way she had seen mothers speak to their children, when she was much younger, and wondered the street and wondered what it would be like to actually have a way she has heard older sisters talk to their much younger brothers. And she tried to keep her disappointment from it.

"Now, just walk forward, and hold my hand, I will guide you by it and voice, just try to not turn to your right too suddenly. And don't worry, as long as you are with me, I will protect you."

After walking in what the boy felt like an utter darkness, with the occasional owl, and sometimes something else calling in the distance, for an indeterminate length of time, Leah warning her companion of what was right ahead or under his feet, they finally reached their (her) destination.

_'I knew it was here, somewhere…'_

Leah was about to comment, before remembering that her companion was unable to see, and would not appreciate her words, being, most likely, the last survivor of the owners of that cart. She wondered if the woman was his mother, or maybe a much older sister? Was one of the men his father, or maybe brother? And to have his family brutally killed in front of his eyes-and all done for her and in her name.

_'No! Enough brooding! I will not brood, not now, and not later! As uncle Deckard once said, one step after the other!_

She looked around for a method to illuminate their surroundings, when suddenly she came up with the idea.

_'Why didn't I think of it before?!'_

Leah released the boy's hand after telling him to stand still, part of her anguishing over the empty, hopeless expression she saw in the dark, as he seemed to tense, and brace himself for something, even as another part was pleased by the tasty little fear, that still lingered in his tired form.

She broke a branch from a nearby tree, and focused on her powers-the demonic magics she instinctively performed when she fought in that mansion. _When she was torn between human desperate fury, and demonic unholy, sadistic wrath tearing her into different directions as hellfire flowed in her veins, and uniting her into one purpose simultaneously. Feeling less consciously human than ever before._

The branch exploded into two burning pieces, one still in her hand.

The other on the ground.

Trying not to be discouraged, she broke another branch, and tried again, this time the guiding instincts succeeding in her goal-the top lit on fire, like a torch, leaving the rest untouched. Though she felt its drain on her, in was a miniscule one.

Under the improvised torch, the boy-Timeon, looked at her, and turned away, gazing aside.

Leah felt exasperated more than anything, but had to ask- "Am I really that repulsive that you avert your eyes?"

"I-it's not l-like that! I-it's just that…well…you aren't decent! NO, no, you are! Only if you want to be! I mean, you aren't wearing any clothes-and your bre-chest, chest! It's exposed."

Leah took a moment to take that in, as she noticed the blush on the boy, and blinked. Twice.

Then she looked down, on her **exposed**, unnaturally colored chest. _It looks slightly bigger than I remember having as human.'_

A raven was heard somewhere in the distance and its call seemed to mock her.

She felt her own cheeks heating, as a voice in her head seemed to whisper that she was fine with it before, just like a true demon. She didn't even think of it then.

Leah did not panic! She walked calmly to the cart, and rummaged for a woman's clothes, calmly, not nearly dropping her torch in haste to cover herself!

* * *

They took what useful supplies remained there, and untainted by Khazra, beasts or otherwise.

Luckily some of it was food rations. As well as women's clothes.

Leah knew the dresses would fit with the tail, and the feared her spikes will tear the coat, but she found a feminine chestpiece for leather armor, and managed to pull it on, after making some holes for the aformentioned spikes, being forced to remove the shoulder parts of it. She failed to find anything to cover her lower half and tail properly amongs the female belongings, and resigned herself to taking a mans pants, and making the back part lower, to reduce discomfort to her tail, and shorten that pant legs to reache only to her knees due to necessity. it still felt weird.

As they walked, their salvages packed in bags on them (and Leah found it a challenge to find a comfortable way to carry it all, without it touching any of her spikes) Leah found a cave, as the sunrise seemed to be near. It appeared a n abandoned wolf den, and she noticed animals kept their distance from her now, even wolves shying away.

So she decided it would be the place they would spend the ni-day, well sleep, or at least try to rest, before continuing, speaking of which-

"Just where are we anyway? The summoning of those wretches left me disoriented about my current location."

Timeon answered without the hesitation and fear from before, and Leah chose to take it as a sign that she could have a true companion and friend in him, though the voice in her head maliciously whispered that it could have been merely exhaustion.

"We are in the kingdom of Westmarch, a bit to the east of Kingsport."

"Westmarch!" _'I was in westmarch all that time?'_

* * *

Author Notes: another chapter. next one will likely contain less Slice of Life , and more cut apart lives, as they reach the first sign of settlement.

What do you think? And did you notice the references to the second game? Leah might soon meet a hero (pc) from D2 (not a barberian)-which class would you prefer it to be? (The D3 heroes will wait till the end of the third act of the story- for those hoping to have Leah meet them earlier, sorry).

Please Review.


	9. Chapter 9

They have traveled for days afterwards, only moving at night, under the cover of darkness. Refraining from walking on the road when they stumbled on it, the two got to know a bit about each other.

She didn't want to ask him about his family- suspecting them dead, the sacrifices the other night, or to talk about hers-either the Uncle, or the mother. She tried to bring the reluctant lad out of his shell of passive hollow obedience, and talked a bit. The demongirl did learn that he was traveling to Kingsport, and wanted to travel and see the world once. She, in return told him that she traveled once, and spoke of some of the places she was at-he seemed to perk up just a bit when she told of Caldeum, Lut Gholeim and Westmarch Capital, and show just the slightest hints of a frown at the mention of cities in Khanduras.

Leah was weary of, and at the same time, glad to-finally go to a settlement. Though the memory of her first encounter since her freedom burdened her, she did not want to be alone again, and the less said about her time in THAT mansion, the better…

Not to mention their limited food supplies. Or the angelic crisis in Sanctuary. She still wanted to know just what THAT was about.

She could've hid her tail in the particularly ugly dress that she found when she searched for anything useful, and took with her, if she tried really hard, and tucked the tail in, barely moving her lower body. She might've even tried to pass of her shoulder spikes as strange pauldrons of some sort, and cover her neck with a scarf. But no matter what bizarre and ridiculous combination of clothing she was to wear, even if demons were not known to put on clothes like that, she could do nothing about her horns.

So Leah had little choice, but to sand her new companion, and hope he will remain such for longer than his first chance to run away with other people nearby.

So when they ended up one night close enough for her inhuman night vision to spot the village, she gave the boy instructions, and some money she found in the cart they raided when first leaving the cultists.

She instructed him to find out what he could about what was happening, and interesting gossip, and resupply for their journey, as well as get a map.

While her optimistic side hoped for his return, the more pragmatic one hoped that if he ran, at least it would be towards a fate better than hers.

* * *

When Tymeon entered the village alone, he was a bit scared, of what might be there-what if there were demons around? Or those strange angels that were attacking everywhere? And if there weren't? What was he to do? Should he tell them about a Demon stalking outside now? Would it make her came in vengeance on the village? Would it-no she, survive it? Would the village? Would he want either? He had nightmares about what these cultists did to Edna, and about what the Demoness did to them. Was about to do to him. _'What am I to do now?'_

He heard normal voices as he got closer-human voices! And Hurried to the village.

He was happy, for some reason, to see militia guard outside.

He told that he was with a caravan, but got attacked by monsters, and only he survived. How he hoped to continue to his uncle, who was rumored to have a good place in Kingsport. Tymeon didn't notice the tears as he told about it, thoughts on his family.

The guard allowed him in, and he hurried to the tavern, where despite the late hour, he discovered was quite a crowd.

* * *

The innkeeper gave him a discount (or claimed to have done so) and the boy was glad to lay in a bad, head on a pillow.

Unfortunately only dreams were about the sacrifice-sometimes it was the bloody and brutal killing of Edna, sometimes of him. And sometimes it was that strange demoness, who told him to call her Leah, that would fail to stop, and do horrible things to him, to the cheer and chant of deranged faces around them.

In one of the nightmares he even dreamed about being the cultist to do the ritual, as others cheered on him, and he was the one to kill Edna.

In yet another, The Demoness turned on the one who did the sacrificing-and he discovered that it was him-with a corpse of his mother at his feet horrified expression and fear in her eyes, and a bloody dagger in his hand, as Leah turned enraged gaze look at him, and charged.

Tymeon woke up, barely keeping himself from screaming over a dozen times, only to finally fall into exhaustion and restless sleep again.

He bought food, and refilled his flask, and even 'got' a map, it even looked like a good one, though he knew little of maps.

The boy also learned some interesting things, something about a hero named 'Naphlem' or something saving the capital from the rampaging angels…

It was as he was about to leave, that he was stopped by an armored knight, with a strange emblem on his tabard- of what looked like an eye.

"Halt there, boy! All in this village are to be subject to the inquisitor, even those passing through!"

"Inquisitor?" Tymeon asked, he have never heard the word before.

"The Inquisitor is a holy priest that will check for corruption- the angels descended on our world due to the sinful ways of Men, the inquisition will purge the Demonic influence and will strike the corrupt in its righteous anger! Only the pure shall remain in our fair kingdom. We will not be found wanting next time judgment is to be passed!"

"I-I'm sorry Sir, but I must hurry- I got here in search for a cure to my ill mother, and I must get it to her before it's too late."

The knight looked at him, and called. "Men, arrest him! I make sure to hear all about the newcomers to the village- you told a different story to the Innkeeper last night, and Lies are of the Demon Lord Belial-we must make sure of just how much tainted you are."

A group of armored men, ones he did not recall seeing yesterday, swiftly took hold of him, his attempt to run away failing nearly immediately after beginning.

As he struggled against their hold, something fell from his pocket.

"And what is this?" The knight asked.

Another of his men picked it up and presented him with the item.

"Hmmm… This is a witch's Amulet, boy-Take him to the dungeon, the Inquisitor will want to question him very soon."

* * *

When he was roughly thrown in, for a moment, Tymeon was not in a village, in the Magistrate's dungeon, but in THAT MANSION, waiting for his turn. He did not know for how long he was there again-back in the horrible mansion where everybody died… And then he heard someone calling, and shook himself.

"-oy, hey boy, it's rude to ignore a girl that is calling you."

As Tymeon turned to the voice- he thought he was dreaming, for a moment.

It was a very, very pretty girl, covered in clothes that may as well have been torn rags, for all that they covered, and one of the only two other occupants of that part of the dungeon. He had to ask what she wanted- so he could do just that, and-he shook his head.

"What do you want?" he asked the girl.

"Wondered what terrible thing you did to get thrown in here."

"What?"

"These are the cells where they throw the heretics in-the man over there is a demon cultist, what did you do to get a cell here? It can't be for petty theft."

"And what about you?" he asked the girl, feeling uneasy.

His answer however was interrupted by more armored men with the eye on their tabards. Around half a dozen.

They guided the three prisoners to the yard behind the magistrate's mansion, where a crowd was gathered, and stood a man in plate armor, clearly a warrior past his prime, with mostly grey hair, he had a shield on his left arm, and a mace on his belt.

He also held himself more regally then the others.

_'Is that the Inquisitor?'_

* * *

Author Notes: So the idea i had for this chapter got scrapped-and replaced with this one...expect the confrontation next chapter.

If you like this fic, please Review- i need it to better motivate my writing and updating.


	10. Chapter 10

"Sir Alistair, those are the accused of corruption and association with the demonic."

The elderly man, warrior, whom Tymeon would have estimated as in healthy fifties, were he not pushed forth, stumbling, looked at the three prisoners before him with a clear distaste.

"Name?" The Inquisitor demanded, addressing the alleged cultist.

The would be cultist remained silent.

"What is his name?" He asked the armored man to his side

"He refused to say, we found him trying to sacrifice one of the villagers in an abandoned shack at the edge of the forest to the east. A man went missing, and we searched for him. Ended up with his heart almost cut out. The cultist tried to run away, and draw a dagger, but we overpowered and subdued him. He has been silent ever since."

The Inquisitor's features screwed in displeasure as he asked for a description of the sacrificial alter, and the room.

"It was a church altar, probably stolen from somewhere, and there was a dead goatman carcass hung on the wall, open from neck to groin, with its insides splattered beneath it, and some humanoid figure with four limbs, with spikes at their ends, was painted with blood nearby. There were also remains of other people that we found buried in a shallow hole behind."

"The limbs seemed bent like spider's, I think." Another commented. And received a glare from both the first speaker, and the Inquisitor.

The Inquisitor addressed the criminal in question, in a deep, commanding voice, as a thin, mousy looking man in a corner was writing in a scroll.

"You, who would not name yourself-stand accused of demon worshipping, murder and sacrificing to demons. What say you to these accusations, you slave of the Demon of Anguish? Do you deny killing the good people of this village, and who knows what other atrocities-in the name of Andariel?"

It was only then, that the man, who spoke not a word since the guards first saw him, appeared to have words to say.

His face twisted into an ugly rage as he replied. "Andariel? No, you self-righteous fool; She is nothing before my master! I am an envoy in the name of a power much greater. One beyond your imagining! I serve the Great Demon Na-Krul, and when he will awaken, and walk this world, the wake of horror that will follow will be so great, that the dark times in Tristram twenty years ago will be seen as a merciful reprieve! He will destroy the Prime Evils, and ru-"

"We have a confirmation, and a confession-did you write it, scribe?"

The mousy scribe nodded and replied with a "Yes, sir".

"Then for your corruption and consorting with demons, as well as murders, I sentence you to death!"

The now self-admitted cultist, who continued to glorify his demonic master, smiled gleefully and maliciously, as he suddenly gestured, and from his hand, a Fireball was launched and moving towards the one who condemned him, to kill him and his surrounding men in the explosion.

Only to collide with the Inquisitor, who ran to the front, holding forward his kite shield, which suddenly started as if changing into a glowing white frame, with a cross symbol in its middle, and nothing else, and the very air around him seemed to be saturated with power, as if the heavens decided to show their favor, in what could be an Aura the man seemed to have around him, which seemed to lessen the fireball, as it collided with the shield.

The next moment He charged forth, and in a swift move Tymeon only saw from that demon-Leah, that day in that mansion, was before the condemned, and struck with his mace.

The man who was proclaiming the glory and power of his demon lord without stop fell dead, from the hit on his head, finally silent.

The entire crowd was silent.

"S-sir? Are you alright?" one of the men finally asked.

The Inquisitor sheathed his mace into the belt, and the no longer glowing shield into his back.

"Yes, Bartleby, I am well enough to proceed with the next prisoner. I may be getting older, but I am still a Paladin of Westmarch!"

_'A P-paladin of Westmarch?! Why did I pick that amulet up, what was I hoping for? I won't be able to get away from it now!' _But Tymeon knew what he thought at the time he gleefully took the amulet. What he hoped to accomplish in his childish, ignorant, naiveté. He just hoped Leah won't take his soul to hell, after his own execution.

"What of the other two?" The Inquisitor, no, Paladin, asked.

"The boy seemed to be in a hurry to leave, and when we tried to question him, he dropped this. We found a witch's amulet just like that in the massacred farm, two weeks ago."

"Yes, I remember that…" Sir Alistair frowned, as he looked at Tymeon.

"The girl was found with a young man in the woods last night, and showed demonic traits when she tried to resist our arrest, the boy with her soon started panicking, and didn't know where he was, or how he got there."

"Hmmmmm…" The Paladin approached the pretty girl Tymeon remembered from before, _'and who could forget her?' _and gestured to her with his outstretched right hand. A glowing white ball of… something, appeared before it.

"Do you know what that is, girl? This is a Holy Bolt! It can bring no harm to people, even healing and easing the good men and women it may strike, but no demon will ever find it anything but hurt and harm."

The girl seemed to flinch as the man, and the globe of holy energy got closer, trying get away from him, and somehow, only now did Tymeon notice that her hands were bound behind her back, and her feet were chained, the chain meeting in the middle, and from there going all the way to the hands of the man who ordered him arrested, as if on a leash.

As she got to the end of the chain, and the aging Paladin, on the other side, directly between her and the holder of her leash, and slowly getting closer, she started to panic.

"No! Get away! Please get him away-you handsome strong man-you wouldn't let a pretty girl suffer, would you?" however her pleas fell on deaf ears, and as the Holy Bolt touched her, she shrieked, in a haunting, unnatural way no human could, as burn marks appeared on her arms where she tried to cover herself with them from the Bolt, and her form shifted, just a bit.

And while her lovely young face was still panicking, it now had inhuman, red eyes instead of the previous pleasing blue, and a pair of small horns peaked at the sides of her head from her hair. Her chest actually got noticeably bigger, and the most noticeable of all- a pair of batlike, leathery wings spouted from her back.

It was a form familiar to those who knew something of demons, and to those who only just heard rumors and tales.

"A succubus!" The stunned Paladin murmured, his Holy Bolt disappearing- and the crowed of villagers around shouted for her death.

_'Am I to die here soon, together with a demon and a cultist?' _a stunned Tymeon thought.

Suddenly, bats flew to them, and started harassing the men, more and more appearing.

They tried to shoo the flying pests away, or kill them, in some cases, one of the villagers yelled- "Smoke! It's smoking from the direction of the storehouse! It's on fire!"

As most of the villagers ran to the direction of the storehouse, and the Paladin and his tried to rid themselves of the bats, a fog descended on them, making visibility, and even breathing, harder. A Roar was heard nearby, and a monstrous demon struck one of the men. A sickening crunch was heard as the man fell, to never rise again.

Through the smoke, Tymeon thought he saw a shadow, with long horns, carved backwards, and spikes, as another man yelled, and gone silent.

"It's hunting us!" One of the men fearfully exclaimed.

The paladin called for order among the men, but another roar had them ignoring him in their panic, as another was silenced midsentence.

Some ran away in fear.

The smoke began clearing, however, and revealed more about the nature of the foe.

It was Her, the demon Leah, looking as monstrous and terrible as the day he first saw her, as if reminding him, that despite her normal, casual words during their journey, she was anything but.

Claws bloody and tail swinging from side to side, she called, in a surprisingly human voice.

"Walk away please, I don't want to fight you!"

The Sir Alistair paled as he saw her. And then seemed to lose himself.

"No! You cannot be here! You are dead! They defeated you! They told me they vanquished you! They we marched into hell itself and slew you!"

He then activated his Holy Shield, and Charged at her, in panicked fury, only to have her duck, and turn sideways. Her own blows were blocked by the shield, and when she sent a Firestorm, the flame that attacked him did no visible damage, while another of his men screamed, as he rolled on the ground, burning.

* * *

"What are you waiting for? Help me! They wanted to kill you too, and would have already finished executing us both if not for that demon! They still might, if we don't escape now!" The girl-succubus? Called, breaking Tymeon from his shock.

He swallowed, then nodded to himself, and hurried to her side, stopping just out of reach. "She is my demon- if you harm me she will kill you, just so you know!" He really hoped she believed his lie, as the claws she had in her current, winged form looked deadly.

She looked at him incredulously, and then nodded her agreement.

Tymeon looked around for anything sharp, and finding a sword, near a dead guardsman, took it and hurried to the side of the succubus.

"You liar- I will get you from hell and drag you there! Don't you dare! I-"

Whatever else she was, was left unsaid, as he interrupted her-"Turn around, I will cut at the rope holding you."

As she reluctantly did so, he cut her bindings, trying hardest not to cut her as well, and with her arms released, both hurried to the chain leashing her, as a demon and paladin fought in the background, maybe for his life.

Later, Tymeon would wonder at the irony of the Paladin Sir Alistair, probably intending to kill him, and the Demon, Leah maybe (hopefully) to save him (he did NOT want to think about other reasons she could have for charging in like that).

The chain leash was found tied to a wooden post, and Tymeon was trying to think what to do, when the succubus clawed at the post, again and again, freeing enough of the chain to be untied.

No longer bound, winged demoness slashed the last man yet to flee in terror or fall at his face with her claws, a moment later he after looking into her eyes he dropped as well. She next took flight, and dropped, with a leg stretched downwards, kicking the Paladin in the back of his head.

"That's for burning me, you bastard!"

Surprisingly, a groan was heard, as Sir Alistair tried, and failed, to rise.

"Must we keep fighting? Let us leave without farther violence, and we will not trouble you anymore. Your men are all either ran or down; only you remain." Leah tried to reason with the man before her.

"No…You are not Him." The Paladin seemed to exhale with some relief. "But I cannot allow you leave unchallenged either. To allow evil uncontested would be a betrayal of the last remaining of my oaths as a Paladin of Zakarum! I am to find demons wherever I find them."

"But I cannot help being what I am, and would not have attacked you, had you accepted to talk, rather than attack right away. Am I condemned for being a demon?"

"You ARE a Demon-by your very nature you belong in hell and will do evil, and tempt others to it! No matter how hard you might struggle against it, no matter how much you may dislike it, you are, by nature a corrupting force of evil. Just as I am a Paladin for the Light-we are who and what we are, and our nature will show through."

He then moaned in pain, stopped his struggle, closing his eyes.

"No! Don't you die on me! You hear me! Don't you dare die on me!"

Leah ran to his side and crouched proceeding to hastily undo the clasps of his armor, now gaining red stains. Underneath was a red stained shirt, and under it was revealed a deep chest wound, one that seemed old, and reopened, with familiar claw marks, only bigger. At the back of her head she sensed the dark curse within the scar-a curse that reactivated in her presence after its dormancy-and the familiar feel of its power.

* * *

Author Notes: This is my longest chapter yet. I initially intended to separate it into two at the roar(just before the fight), but changed my mind-do you prefer its present form, or advice me to separate it into two chapters?

Anything familiar about Sir Alistair?

If you have advice, ideas or suggestions, if you have a character you would like me to add (minor char in a minor role) PM me.

Please Review, it makes updates faster. ;)


	11. Chapter 11

_Pits and rivers of flame, deep within the burning hells, where the very air feels as if on fire._

_A group of so called 'Heroes', come to bring about Terror's End, paladins radiating the disgusting Holy, sorceresses not yet corrupted, barbarians that think to turn their fear into rage and necromancers that actually summoned and controlled undead without falling to evil, Amazonian rogues of archers, and more…_

_Coming to the very seat of His power to challenge Him! What impudence! They will learn…_

_Few fall on the way, some more die against His demon lieutenants, a couple lose their nerve and flee. By the time the Demon Lord they seek is reached, they number considerably less. More fall against Him, a Brave Paladin, already singed from the fire attacks, Distracts Terror just enough to allow a companion the momentary reprieve to drink a healing potion before returning to the battle, only to receive the brunt of the next attack of displeasure of the prime Evil before him._

_The clawed hand hit with inhuman strength that is felt even through Plate mail, and ribs damaged, some sinister magic curse makes it hard to breathe. Everything aches, and the feel of holy energies around him dims and stifles, as if chocked. Resists the healing attempts._

_The man is swiftly evacuated through a Town Portal, the great battle of heroes against a great demon lord continues…_

"-s for freein me and finishing that bastard, he made feeding very hard in the villages nearby and almost caught be twice before, so I best take my leave now. Bye."

With a supernaturally swift reflexes and speed that allowed her to avoid having her opponent bash her head with his shield, Leah rises and catches the dangling end of the chain, still attached to the feet of the swiftly lifting off succubus, halting her attempt to fly away.

"Not so fast."

* * *

They retreated into the forest, the succubus, wings stretching and folding, walking at the front, at the bigger demoness' insistence, like a leashed pet taken for a walk, and the boy at the rear, nervously turning to look if anyone was behind them.

Tymeon wondered what they would have looked like, to someone looking, before fervently wishing that none will, that no one will see them.

"Can we rest a bit? My burns hurt, I want to sit down!" the leashed demon complained.

"Not yet, we are not far enough."

"Do you know how painful Holly burns are?"

The other demoness replied, the calm voice betraying none of the emotional turmoil the smaller demon felt within her.

"I fought him."

"well, maybe you heal better, or more resistant."

Glancing at the boy, tha demon in the middle voiced her agreement.

"Fine, we will sit down for a bit."

"…"

"I take it you only Reverted recently…"

"Reverted?"

"The cry at the Paladin's death, the despair and anguish you felt upon hearing his words, the denial of his death. Your looting a coat from one of the men to cover your unclothed demonic form and cover your chest-the way you blushed just now. You used to be human, or think yourself as one, didn't you?"

"I, how-talk, now!" Leah commanded, yanking at the chain that leashed the young looking disguised demon to her.

"Sometimes Mommy and daddy like each other very much, and make a baby. If one of them happens to be a demon-say a succubus, maybe wanting to make a man lose his fiancé, or girl he likes, or just out for some lust… sometimes the human partner lives, and sometimes it results with progeny. The result is not always an outright demonic birth.

Sometimes, the newborn looks human but has the bit of demon in him, and sometimes they not only look like humans, or almost like humans, but try to act as if they are as well, and then, something happens, and they look like the other parent, and some of its demonic nature shines through- the kid looks more demonic, has some of the hunger of his parent demon."

At the look the bigger demoness gave her, and the displeasure obvious in the movement of her tail, the smaller demon commented.

"It is something rare, 'parently, and I never heard of it being any demon other than succubus… which you are clearly NOT."

"Really…you better elaborate, and don't lie, I will know." A ball of fire appeared before her outstretched hand, as Leah's eye glow intensified briefly.

The other girl swallowed, took a breath and continued.

"That's the way it happened to me, honest! Only my Da apparently wasn't surprised- turned out my ma raped him when his girl was there, and then saddled them with me as a joke, telling him that she will be checking on me, and unless I'm there and fine, thinkin myself normal, she will kill them.

One day, well… let's just say that a boy wanted more than I was ready to give at the time, and ended up regretting it for the rest of his life- all minute of it… and I Reverted-or that's how I call it.

Next thing I got wings", she flexed her leathery, batlike wings, "Tail", she uncoiled her tail from her waist, where it was coiled like a belt, "and claws, as well as feelin as if I just sated an old hunger I didn't remember havin' , while the boy's breeches were down, and his lifeblood on my lips. i take it your story is something like that too…"

Failing to spot the small fears and nervousness that were inherent in all but the best lies, Leah considered it, and the winged girl before her, for it truly looked like a young girl, wings, oversized chest and horns aside, still not out of her teens.

In all her studies, both with Uncle Deckard, and after his…death…she has never heard of anything like it, and briefly wondered, if she was just not looking at the right books to find texts about such things, if it was a rare occurrence-what her new companion was telling, or if it was affected by the destruction of the WorldStone… _'I wonder if Tyreal knew of such offspring… I wonder what was the fate of such…'_

"What's your name, anyway?"

"When I was still human, or thought myself one, I was called Liaza, it's as good as any name now."

"What did they say was her crime?" Leah asked their third companion, who pretended not to eavesdrop.

"T-they said they found her with a boy in the forest, that he didn't remember how he got there."

"What did you intend to do to the boy, Liaza?"

"nothing bad, just play a bit.."

"Now you are lying!" Leah commented, feeling the touch of fear from the other girl when she uttered the lie and the wave of fear that followed after her own statement.

"Just a bit of his lust and blood-not too much, nothing that will kill him- I'm as succubus-or half one, I need it! I need it like people need food and water! I can't help it."

Leah nodded. And then asked…

"Will you need something for the burns?"

"I need to feed…hey, boy…Tymeon, was it-"

"No!" the older girl replied, having understood what was about to be asked.

"Fine, keep him to yourself…"

"I w-what? No! It's nothing of that sort!" Leah spluttered her denials. Tymeon looked torn between embarrassment and mortification.

"Suuuure, just remember that with your current strength you all too likely end up killing him by mistake, so maybe you better do it in human form."

"Human form?" An intrigued Leah parroted.

**End of Act I**

* * *

Author Notes: finally finished first part (or more precisely, got no more ideas about that part of the story). I have Acts II and III planned, and some vague ideas about act IV...

I don't know yet about Expansion-Act V...

Please Review, and comment, criticize, and suggest ideas.


	12. Chapter 12

_A woman chained, strangely familiar, crying s she is tormented, in a hell, agony and pain on her screaming visage._

_Around is only a strange fog, clouding the view, and an acrid, humid, feel, as in too close to a furnace, like near the fire in a hot, dry desert day, and a smell of sulfur._

_Approaching closer the similarity revealed fully- it is a woman that died in a hunting house, sacrificed by cultists to a daughter of Terror. The fog suddenly parts, as if by some intangible wind, revealing grey ash covering the ground entirely, and more pillars nearby, on each a person is chained, bleeding unstopping, all familiar._

_The cultist leader who first summoned her, with his successor, whom she killed on the pillar beside him._

_Every pillar has someone she killed, or was sacrificed to her name._

_Step back, and another, the third lands into something liquid._

_A turn of the head to look-it is a puddle she stepped into. _

_The reflective surface shows a monstrous form, similar to the one HE took, according to what flashes of foreign memory remain. But also different, the feminine hips and chest more pronounced, less spikes, and the raging, demonic, burning yellow eyes hold none of Him._

_The Self is recognizing itself. A scream of horror starts in her mind, but what exits the throat is a demonic roar._

* * *

Leah woke with a start. _'Every time I close my eyes and try to sleep, I have a nightmare of Hell for dreams.'_

Still, she rose, and looked at her hands. At her arms and legs.

_'Human again. For all the trouble she caused, for all the irritation her presence brought, the half-Succubus girl did help me regain my wholly human shape. _

Finally presentable again, Leah no longer needed to travel through the woods and keep from getting to close to roads or people.

A stolen change of clothes from a caravan that made a night stop on the road allowed her to take Tymeon and travel on the roads, rather than waste time looking for ways to go around the various obstacles for a sneaking traveling demon.

The few days spent having a girl younger than herself try to guide her in demonic skills and what Liaza called 'Demon common street knowledge', without really knowing how to teach, and with the talent that in some moments had Leah wonder if she even knew how to read, was a test of patience for all three of them.

The innuendo thrown towards her and the boy all too often only made it worse, as the daily whining about the refusal to allow her to 'just take a bite from the little virgin- he won't die, won't even have any scars, honest!'

And it was showing-the boy had dreams that disturbed his sleep as well soon after.

Fortunately, within few days, Leah was back in the form she had THEN. Before HE possessed her, and before she even met that accursed witch of a mother.

The Half-Succubus left the next day- claiming to go in search of less prudish companions. And to finally get a 'long overdue meal'.

* * *

Tymeon was glad that the demon girl finally left, her presence unnerved him almost as much as the other demon girl, and for completely different reasons.

He would much prefer the death and disembowelment by Leah, rather than whatever Liaza would think when she would look at him, with that unnerving smile that promised heavenly pleasure, and infernal Anguish.

Even the nightmares he had changed, from the scenes of horrible death and terror by the former, to other, less violent, but more disturbing ones where to later starred, wearing less than she did when he first saw her, by much.

For some reason, when they finally got into a town, the inn was closed.

His companion behaved oddly human, and he himself would not have thought her a demon were he to look at her behavior not knowing what he knew (and he still was uncertain about the 'half demon' nonsense the Succubus spouted. Wouldn't someone have known of it, if it was true?)

Apparently the inn keeper was among those who dropped dead for some reason, more than a week ago, and so it was closed.

He wondered where they would spend the night, but Le-the Demoness, _'she is a demoness, a terrible vicious demon, under that cute human for-don't forget what she did, the cultists, the sacrifices!'_

The demoness stopped to ponder, and then a strangely worm smile slowly appeared on her face, as she turned to him and asked, in a sweet voice that reminded him of the other She-Demon, the one that left.

"Tymeon, have you ever wondered what it would be like, to work at an Inn?"

* * *

Author Notes: Sorry for the Hiatus with all my fics, i had to deal with a project...

Hopefully soon i will have the time to update often again.

What do you think about my start of the second act? What do you think about Liaza?

If you have any ideas, criticism, comments-Review.

And even if you Don't, still Review!


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